


Math is War

by royalliest



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-06-27 06:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15679974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royalliest/pseuds/royalliest
Summary: Persona 5 Mathletes AU. A late night idea suggested by a friend.Akechi Goro is suddenly upstaged by a bunch of teenagers in crappy latex bodysuits during his last year as a high school mathlete, hindering his plans to quality for the International Math Olympiad. They don’t follow the rules at all. They probably cheat because Sakamoto doesn’t know how to take a derivative. Their leader looks really handsome in pleather gloves.





	1. Chapter 1

Akechi Goro is dumbstruck by the sight of Kitagawa making a hand gesture that he can only guess is a sideways fist pump resembling an elbow jab as Kurusu slaps Kitagawa’s ass.

“Go get ‘em, Fox!” Takamaki cheers. Sakamoto follows it with a couple of hoots and a better version of the chicken-winged arm gesture Kitagawa made.

Mercifully, Nijima and Okumura say and do the minimal, normal celebratory acts.

Teams like their ragtag group of hooligans aren’t even official. Everyone is scored individually, and the goal is to claw your way into a few spots representing Japan for the International Mathematical Olympiad. Goro doesn’t have much time left, since only pre-college students under 20 can compete and win. He attempts to keep his face from displaying his internal screaming as they announce top scores for the tournament.

Kitagawa had just been announced to have ranked 4th, prompting his teammates to unleash their hellish screeches and vulgar hand gestures.

“Akechi Goro, 2nd place -“ snaps him back to attention. He presses his lips together, hoping that he won’t hear a familiar name next. When he returns to his room after, it will be a quiet shame that he had ranked, but not high enough. 

The announcer roars into the crackling PA system with a “Kurusu Akira, 1st place with only one point deducted from a perfect score! Congratulations, and -“

He doesn’t bother staying for the bullshit congratulations from other competitors, let alone the rest of the announcement. Goro stalks through the hallway and resists the urge to smash his briefcase, head, and existence into the wall. 

God, does he hate Kurusu. What kind of upstart leader with shitty hair and shittier fashion choices gets to be better than him? Two months ago, he was crushing the competition to Shido’s satisfaction, until suddenly, he was being constantly upstaged by imbeciles who wore BSDM vinyl costumes to compete in math competitions.

“They’re not BDSM outfits,”

Goro stops his clomping on the empty Kosei High linoleum, and turns to meet this person. He keeps his eyes on his shoes rather than looking up to face whoever it is. It’s empty of students due to it being Sunday, and the visual and audible effect of black leather dress shoes on white linoleum flooring really helps him feel better. Dramatic, but effective. 

“...Thanks? Wow, thanks. Wait, no one’s ever said that before. Usually they tell us it’s probably against the rules, until we show them it’s technically not by the highlighted section in our copy of the rule book and-“

“What?” Goro’s head snaps up. Merely think of the Devil, and he shall appear.

“Sorry, I’m just rambling, did you just call me a devil, i-is that a metaphor for handsome, I mean, the outfit is supposed to be all ‘gentlemen thief’, kind of devilish right, yeah, uh, thanks?”

Goro does something like a quadruple take to confirm Kurusu is standing in front of him in that ridiculous pleather getup. He is unsure why he decides to make burning eye contact with Kurusu at all costs like he wants to instantly die and Medusa is there. Certainly, there could be a couple snakes hiding in the fluff that guy calls hair.

“U-uh, yeah, thank you, wow, I like your hair too? It’s really soft looking, what kind of conditioner do you use? And I didn’t know they called you Detective Prince for other than your looks and m-math skills, oh my god you’re really smooth,” Kurusu starts to stutter. “I just wanted to congratulate you on how well you did and that it was an h-honor to compete against you and you know, do you wanttogooutforcoffeesometime?“

Goro automatically responds, “Coffee would be great, thank you,” before shutting the fuck up. Coffee is overpriced bean water. He really craves pancakes with coffee right now. That was probably a date invitation. He made a big mistake. Kurusu is as red as his gloves.

Fuck. Kurusu is now fumbling in his pockets for something before shoving it at Goro. He sprints away, pleather tailcoat flapping behind him. Are those stiletto heels? 

As Goro stands in the hallway, slowly recovering from whatever the hell mind reading crap that was, he decides to go get some pancakes. 

———

Pancakes are a cure all for disappointment, the pain of existence, teenage angst, and frustration. They still don’t stop the full force and horror of what he’s done from striking him mid-meal. He mechanically reaches for another scoop of jam but puts it in his coffee instead of on his pancakes. 

In retrospect, Goro was too mopey to notice what Kurusu had actually approached him for, and Kurusu too nervous to notice that Goro was in a shit mood. Voicing the tail end of his thoughts out loud was a habit he’d intended to kick months ago, and as a result of Goro’s neglect, it probably had come off as really terrible flirting. He did still have whatever it was Kurusu gave him. Perhaps it’s a good time to check what it is. The day can’t get any more worse anyways.

He extracts a ball of lined paper from his pocket. Unfolding it reveals: “Kurusu Akira, meet at Leblanc next Sunday afternoon (you don’t have a math competition then! Please come if you’re not busy!!!!!!! We can study together!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!). Text me please?” along with a phone number. He scowls at the paper. Next Sunday is the only free time he has all week. How does Kurusu know? Can these pancakes also solve his Kurusu problem right now?

Pancakes can’t get rid of his problems, Goro thinks, they only delay them. Until next Sunday. But denial is his favorite method of coping, he thinks. Then he denies his denial, shoves the paper back into his pocket, and goes back to the pancakes. 

Pancakes are a cure all for all of his problems, he thinks. If he eats enough of them, Sunday will never come. He’ll die from sugar overload and Kurusu will probably show up at his funeral in all black. It looks good on him. He’d probably look even better crying. Really good, on his knees sobbing in the dirt, eyelashes long, lips red, Goro looking down on him from some ghostly perspective up above.

Goro drops his butter into the coffee and his head into his hands. Pancakes never worked.


	2. 2. All-you-can-drink, Imported, First Harvest, Organic, Artisan Hipster Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday at Leblanc’s.

It’s Sunday. Goro’s standing outside LeBlanc. He steels himself. Today will not be a Q&A, getting to know you act. This is strictly a business exchange and satisfying Goro’s coffee addiction for cheap.

Online, LeBlanc is rated 4.7 stars for unique coffee. It has amazing reviews. Goro cannot believe Kurusu actually has taste in studying in such a good coffee place after seeing his disastrous pleather math competition outfits. It seems that Goro can be bought quite easily with all-you-can-drink, imported, first harvest, organic, artisan hipster coffee. He is also privately curious about the hot male part-timer factored into the high rating online, described in reviews as “one of the best snaccs LeBlanc has to offer”. Unfortunately, no photos of him were online. But it’s definitely not like Goro tried to look for some photo evidence. It’s just research, curiosity, and a win-win situation with a small demerit of Kurusu. He needs to verify with his own eyes and mouth the looks of the employee and the taste of the coffee. He tries to erase that phrasing from his brain. 

Well, the supposedly hot part timer wasn’t there anyways, since there was a gruff-looking, older man behind the counter instead. Kurusu is sitting in a booth with some fresh coffee in mugs, and Goro ignores him in favor of the coffee before even making eye contact. He has to actually move his head in different directions while sipping, since Kurusu shifts his body to attempt to get into Goro’s field of vision. 

“Hi, Akechi-san,”

Goro has to eventually respond. He does so tersely.

“Hello, Kurusu-san.”

“So.... how’s it going?”

“Good. We’re here to study, right?”

“Yeah, but do you want any food or something -“ Kurusu makes to stand up, but a wave from Goro shuts him down.

“No, coffee is acceptable. Let us get to work.” He pulls out several worksheets on four variable partial derivatives. “I’d like to keep this to a nice study period. You don’t mind?”

———

The downside to so much all-you-can-drink, imported, first harvest, organic, artisan hipster coffee is the size of his bladder. After asking Kurusu where the restroom is, Goro stands up fast enough that his thighs hit the table side, tipping an entire pot of coffee onto the floor and soaking his shoes.

“My apologies,-“  
Kurusu interrupts with, “The pot’s not broken, I shouldn’t have left it so close to the edge, so it’s not an issue-“  
“No, it’s my fault-“

He presses firmly down on Goro’s shoulders to push him back into the seat and tells him to stay put. 

Goro doesn’t reply, distracted by the squishiness of his socks. Italian leather ruined. Damn. He despises the feeling of wet socks, so he sets to removing his shoes and socks to wear his loafers barefooted.

Kurusu returns with a few paper and cloth towels, only to immediately blurt out, “Woah, your feet could make a lot of money online, I would-“

He falls silent and busies himself to mopping up the coffee. Goro has no response either. He could stand up and go home, but he is loathe to even move his feet now. The silence hangs with the tension of guillotine about to drop. Goro decides the best course of action is just to pretend the last 5 minutes had never existed, and soon after Kurusu finishes his work, grabs a new pot, and returns to the table. Goro very carefully stands up as soon as Kurusu sits down, and proceeds to the bathroom.

When he returns, Kurusu breaks the silence and pours Goro a fresh cup of coffee.

“Akechi-san, we’ve been working on problems for a while, you wanna try trading some competitive information stuff? Like, you really look so nice, I mean, composed during competition, you dress nicely, I mean, composedly. Uh, what’s your secret?”

“Well, it’s about mental strength, and I frequently wear those armpit pads underneath my shirt. It gets hot during the summer, and I get sweaty. Saves my Prada from pit stains.”

Akira nods, and his hand starts to write again on his math notes. He’s legitimately taking notes. Akechi is almost impressed. He’s also starting to get sweaty.

“I happened to notice you wore Valentino heels as well. Their bright colors are exquisite, but I do have a preference for red, and it seems you do have... original taste.” Akechi did find the entirety of Akira’s competition outfit distasteful, but the shoes were almost impressive.

“Thanks, you noticed? Got them on sale from a secondhand shop nearby. Don’t know the brand, but-“ Akira mumbles in a much quieter voice, “-they were really cool.” Then he continues to write sloppy notes.

Out of curiosity, Akechi peers over at Akira’s scribbles. The only words he can make out are ‘hot’, ‘sweaty’, ‘really hot’, then ‘SWEATY’ underlined twice.

After some more chitchat in a similar manner, Goro said his goodbyes and went home.

**Author's Note:**

> ok friend it’s time for you to write the other cursed P5 fic... also shoutout to my other friend who really likes feet
> 
> I’d like to write more for this AU but lazy :/ it was born out of a 2 am Akechi roast and went downhill from there. I don’t even ship Akira/Akechi but, damn, this idea was too hilarious to pass up.


End file.
